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And realized his waking dreams.
Soon from those waking dreams he woke,
The fairy spell of fancy broke;
In vain he breathed a soul of fire,
Through every chord that strung his lyre.
No friendly echo cheer'd his tongue,
Amidst the wilderness he sung;
Louder and bolder bards were crown'd,
Whose dissonance his music drown'd:
[he public ear, the public voice,
Despised his song, denied his choice,
Denied a name, a life in death,
Denied—a bubble and a breath.
Stript of his fondest, dearest claim,
And disinherited of fame,
To thee, O Pillow ! thee alone,
He made his silent anguish known;
His haughty spirit scorn'd the blow
That laid his high ambition low;
But ah! his looks assumed in vain
A cold ineffable disdain,
While deep he cherished in his breast
she scorpion that consumed his rest.
Yet other secret griefs had he,
0 Pillow only told to thee:
Say, did not hopeless love intrude
On his poor bosom's solitude :
Perhaps on thy soft lap reclined,
In dreams the cruel fair was kind,
That more intensely he might know
The bitterness of waking woe.
Whate'er those pangs from me conceal’d,
To thee in midnight groans reveal’d ;
They stung remembrance to despair;
“A wounded spirit who can bear!”
Meanwhile disease, with slow decay,
Moulder'd his feeble frame away!
And as his evening sun declined,
The shadows deepen'd o'er his mind.
What doubts and terrors then possess'd
The dark dominion of his breast!
How did delirious fancy dwell
On madness, suicide, and hell
There was on earth no power to save:
—But, as he shudder'd o'er the grave,
He saw from realms of light descend
The friend of him who has no friend,
Religion!—her almighty breath
Rebuked the winds and waves of death;
She bade the storm of frenzy cease,
And smiled a calm, and whisper'd peace:
Amidst that calm of sweet repose,
To Heaven his gentle spirit rose.

THE COMMON LOT. Once in the flight of ages past There lived a man:—and who was he? -Mortal! howe'er thy lot be cast, That man resembled thee.

Unknown the region of his birth,
The land in which he died unknown:

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—“‘Leave me not, Adam' leave me not below;
With thee I tarry, or with thee I go,'—
She said, and yielding to his faint embrace,
Clung round his neck, and wept upon his face.
Alarming recollection soon return'd,
His fever'd frame with growing anguish burn'd:
Ah! then, as Nature's tenderest impulse wrought,
With fond solicitude of love she sought
To soothe his limbs upon their grassy bed,
And make the pillow easy to his head;
She wiped his reeking temples with her hair;
She shook the leaves to stir the sleeping air;
Moisten’d his lips with kisses: with her breath
Vainly essay’d to quell the fire of death,
That ran and revelled through his swollen veins
With quicker pulses, and severer pains.

“The sun, in summer majesty on high, Darted his fierce effulgence down the sky; Yet dimm'd and blunted were the dazzling rays,

His orb expanded through a dreary haze,
And, circled with a red portentous zone,
He look'd in sickly horror from his throne;
The vital air was still; the torrid heat
Oppress'd our hearts, that labour'd hard to beat.
When higher noon had shrunk the lessening shade,
Thence to his home our father we convey'd,
And stretch'd him, pillow'd with his latest sheaves,
On a fresh couch of green and fragrant leaves.
Here, though his sufferings through the glen were
known,
We chose to watch his dying bed alone,
Eve, Seth, and I. In vain he sigh’d for rest,
And oft his meek complainings thus express'd:
—“Blow on me, wind! I faint with heat! O bring
Delicious water from the deepest spring;
Your sunless shadows o'er my limbs diffuse,
Ye cedars! wash me cold with midnight dews.
—Cheer me, my friends! with looks of kindness
Whisper a word of comfort in mine ear; [cheer;
Those sorrowing faces fill my soul with gloom;
This silence is the silence of the tomb.
Thither I hasten; help me on my way;
Osing to sooth me, and to strengthen pray !'
We sang to sooth him, hopeless was the song;
We pray'd to strengthen him, he grew not strong.
In vain from every herb, and fruit, and flower,
Of cordial sweetness, or of healing power,
We press'd the virtue; no terrestrial balm
Nature's dissolving agony could calm.
Thus as the day declined, the fell disease
Eclipsed the light of life by slow degrees:
Yet while his pangs grew sharper, more resign'd,
More self-collected, grew the sufferer's mind;
Patient of heart, though rack'd at every pore,
The righteous penalty of sin he bore;
Not his the fortitude that mocks at pains,
But that which feels them most, and yet sustains.
—‘Tis just, 'tis merciful, we heard him say;
‘Yet wherefore hath he turn'd his face away?
I see him not; I hear him not; I call;

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“The sun went down, amidst an angry glare

Of flushing clouds, that crimson'd all the air;
The winds brake loose; the forest boughs were torn,
And dark aloof the eddying soliage borne;
Cattle to shelter scudded in affright;
The florid evening vanish’d into night:
Then burst the hurricane upon the vale,
In peals of thunder, and thick-vollied hail;
Prone rushing rains with torrents whelm'd the land,
Our cot amidst a river seem'd to stand;
Around its base, the foamy-crested streams
Flash'd through the darkness to the lightning's

gleams; [ground,
With monstrous throes an earthquake heaved the
The rocks were rent, the mountains trembled round;
Never since nature into being came,
Had such mysterious motion shook her frame;
We thought, ingulpht in floods, or wrapt in fire,
The world itself would perish with our sire.

“Amidst this war of elements, within More dreadful grew the sacrifice of sin, Whose victim on his bed of torture lay. Breathing the slow remains of life away. Erewhile, victorious faith sublimer rose Beneath the pressure of collected woes: But now his spirit waver'd, went and came. Like the loose vapour of departing flame. Till at the point, when comfort seem'd to die For ever in his fix’d unclosiug eye, Bright through the smouldering ashes of the ou. The saint brake forth, and Adam thus began:

—““O ye that shudder at this awful strife, This wrestling agony of death and life, Think not that He, on whom my soul is cast, Will leave me thus forsaken to the last; Nature's infirmity alone you see: My chains are breaking, I shall soon be free: Though firm in God the spirit holds her trus, The flesh is frail, and trembles into dust. Horror and anguish seize me;—'tis the hour Of darkness, and I mourn beneath its power; The Tempter plies me with his direst art, I feel the Serpent coiling round my heart; He stirs the wound he once inflicted there, Instils the deadening poison of despair. Belies the truth of God's delaying grace. And bids me curse my Maker to his face. —I will not curse Him, though his grace delay; I will not cease to trust Him, though he slay; Full on his promised mercy I rely, For God hath spoken, God, who cannot lie. —Thou, of my faith the Author and the End: Mine early, late, and everlasting friend: The joy, that once thy presence gave, restore Ere I am summon'd hence, and seen no more: Down to the dust returns this earthly frame, Receive my spirit, Lord! from whom it cate; Rebuke the Tempter, shew thy power to save, O let thy glory light me to the grave, That these, who witness my departing breath, May learn to triumph in the grasp of death.’

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O let me follow in this dear embrace!”
She sank, and on his bosom hid her face.
Adam look’d up; his visage changed its hue,
Transform'd into an angel's at the view:
“I come!" he cried, with faith's full triumph fired,
And in a sigh of ecstacy expired.
The light was vanish'd, and the vision fled;
We stood alone, the living with the dead;
The ruddy embers, glimmering round the room,
Display'd the corpse amidst the solemn gloom;
But o'er the scene a holy calm reposed,
The gate of heaven had open'd there, and closed.

“Eve's faithful arm still clasp'd her lifeless spouse; Gently I shook it, from her trance to rouse; She gave no answer; motionless and cold, It fell like clay from my relaxing hold; Alarm’d, I listed up the locks of grey That hid her cheek; her soul had pass'd away: A beauteous corse she graced her partner's side; Love bound their lives, and death could not divide.”

THE EFFECT OF MUSIC ON CAIN.

“I love thee, twilight! as thy shadows roll, The calm of evening steals upon my soul, Sublimely tender, solemnly serene, Still as the hour, enchanting as the scene. I love thee, twilight! for thy gleams impart Their dear, their dying influence to my heart, When o'er the harp of thought thy passing wind Awakens all the music of the mind, And joy and sorrow, as the spirit burns, And hope and memory sweep the chords by turns, While contemplation, on seraphic wings, Mounts with the flame of sacrifice, and sings. Twilight! I love thee; let thy glooms increase Till every feeling, every pulse is peace; Slow from the sky the light of day declines, Clearer within the dawn of glory shines, Revealing, in the hour of nature's rest, A world of wonders in the poet's breast: Deeper, Otwilight! then thy shadows roll, An awful vision opens on my soul.

“On such an evening, so divinely calm, The woods all melody, the breezes balm, Down in a vale, where lucid waters stray'd, And mountain-cedars stretcht their downward

shade,

Jubal, the prince of song (in youth unknown)
Retired to commune with his harp alone;
For still he nursed it, like a secret thought,
Long cherish'd and to late perfection wrought,
And still with cunning hand, and curious ear,
Enrich'd, ennobled, and enlarged its sphere,
Till he had compass'd, in that magic round,
A soul of harmony, a heaven of sound.
Then sang the minstrel, in his laurel bower,
Of nature's origin, and music's power.
~' He spake, and it was done;—Eternal night,
* God's command, awaken'd into light;

He call'd the elements, earth, ocean, air,
He call'd them when they were not, and they were:
He look"d through space, and kindling o'er the sky,
Sun, moon, and stars came forth to meet his eye:
His spirit moved upon the desert earth,
And sudden life through all things swarm'd to birth;
Man from the dust he raised to rule the whole;
He breathed, and man became a living soul:
Through Eden's groves the Lord of Nature trod,
Upright and pure, the image of his God.
Thus were the heavens and all their host display'd,
In wisdom thus were earth's foundations laid;
The glorious scene a holy sabbath closed,
Amidst his works the Omnipotent reposed:
And while he view'd, and bless'd them from his seat,
All worlds, all beings worshipt at his feet:
The morning stars in choral concert sang,
The rolling deep with hallelujahs rang,
Adoring angels from their orbs rejoice,
The voice of music was Creation's voice.

“‘Alone along the lyre of nature sigh'd The master-chord, to which no chord replied; For man, while bliss and beauty reign'd around, For man alone, no fellowship was found, No fond companion, in whose dearer breast, His heart, repining in his own, might rest; For, born to love, the heart delights to roam, A kindred bosom is its happiest home. On earth's green lap, the father of mankind, In mild dejection, thoughtfully reclined; Soft o'er his eyes a sealing slumber crept, And fancy soothed him while reflection slept. ThenGod—who thus would make his counsel known, Counsel that will'd not man to dwell alone, Created woman with a smile of grace, And left the smile that made her on her face. The patriarch's eyelids open'd on his bride, —The morn of beauty risen from his side! He gazed with new-born rapture on her charms, And love's first whispers won her to his arms. Then, tuned through all the chords supremely sweet, Exulting nature found her lyre complete, And from the key of each harmonious sphere Struck music worthy of her Maker's ear.’

“Here Jubal paused; for grim before him lay, Couch'd like a lion watching for his prey, With blood-red eye of fascinating fire, Fix'd like the gazing serpent’s on the lyre, An awful form, that through the gloom appear'd, Half brute, half human; whose terrific beard, And hoary flakes of long dishevell'd hair, Like eagle's plumage ruffled by the air, Veil'd a sad wreck of grandeur and of grace; Limbs worn and wounded; a majestic face, Deep-plough’d by time, and ghastly pale with woes, That goaded till remorse to madness rose. Haunted by phantoms, he had fled his home, With savage beasts in solitude to roam; Wild as the waves, and wandering as the wind, No art could tame him, and no chains could bind: Already seven disastrous years had shed

Mildew and blast on his unshelter'd head;
His brain was smitten by the sun at noon,
His heart was wither'd by the cold night-moon.

“”Twas Cain, the sire of nations;–Jubal knew His kindred looks, and tremblingly withdrew; He, darting like the blaze of sudden fire, Leap'd o'er the space between, and grasp'd the lyre: Sooner with life the struggling bard would part, And ere the fiend could tear it from his heart, He hurl’d his hand, with one tremendous stroke, O'er all the strings; whence in a whirlwind broke Such tones of terror, dissonance, despair, As till that hour had never jarr'd in air. Astonish’d into marble at the shock, Backward stood Cain, unconscious as a rock, Cold, breathless, motionless through all his frame; But soon his visage quicken'd into flame, When Jubal's hand the crashing jargon changed To melting harmony, and nimbly ranged From chord to chord, ascending sweet and clear, Then rolling down in thunder on the ear; With power the pulse of anguish to restrain, And charm the evil spirit from the brain.

“Slowly recovering from that trance profound,
Bewilder'd, touch'd, transported with the sound,
Cain view'd himself, the bard, the earth, the sky,
While wonder flash'd and faded in his eye,
And reason, by alternate frenzy crost,
Now seem'd restored, and now for ever lost.
So shines the moon, by glimpses, through her
shrouds,

When windy darkness rides upon the clouds,
Till through the blue, serene, and silent night,
She reigns in full tranquillity of light.
Jubal, with eager hope, beheld the chace
Ofstrange emotions hurrying o'er his face,
And waked his noblest numbers, tocontroul
The tide and tempest of the maniac's soul;
Through many a maze of melody they flew,
They rose like incense, they distill'd like dew,
Pour'd through the sufferer's breast delicious balm,
And soothed remembrance till remorse grew calm,
Till Cain forsook the solitary wild,
Led by the minstrel like a weaned child.
O! had you seen him to his home restored,
How young and old ran forth to meet their lord;
How friends and kindred on his neck did fall,
Weeping aloud, while Cain outwept them all:
But hush!—thenceforward when recoiling care
Lower'd on his brow, and sadden'd to despair,
The lyre of Jubal, with divinest art,
Repell'd the demon, and revived his heart.
Thus song, the breath of heaven, had power to bind
In chains of harmony the mightiest mind;
Thus music's empire in the soul began,
The first-born poet ruled the first-born man.”

THE GIANT CHIEFTAIN.

“When war, that self-inflicted scourge of man, His boldest crime and bitterest curse, began ;

As lions fierce, as forest-cedars tall,
And terrible as torrents in their fall, [hur'.
Headlong from rocks through vales and vineyars
These men of prey laid waste the eastern world.
They taught their tributary hordes to wield [šek
The sword, red-flaming, through the death-strot
With strenuous arm the uprooted rock to throw,
Glance the light arrow from the bounding bow.
Whirl the broad shield to meet the darted stroke,
And stand to combat, like the unyielding oak.
Then eye from eye with fell suspicion turn'd,
In kindred breasts unnatural hatred burn'd;
Brother met brother in the lists of strife,
The son lay lurking for the father's life;
With rabid instinct, men who never knew
Each other's face before, each other slew;
All tribes, all nations learn'd the fatal art,
And every hand was arm'd to pierce a heart.
Norman alone the giant's might subdued;
—The camel, wean'd from quiet solitude,
Grazed round their camps, or slow along the road,
Midst marching legions, bore the servile load.
With flying forelock and dishevell'd mane,
They caught the wild steed prancing o'er the phia,
For war or pastime rein'd his fiery force;
Fleet as the wind he stretch'd along the course,
Or loudly neighing at the trumpet’s sound,
With hoofs of thunder smote the indented ground.
The enormous elephant obey'd their will,
And, tamed to cruelty with direst skill,
Roar'd for the battle, when he felt the goad,
And his proud lord his sinewy neck bestrode.
Through crashing ranks resistless havoc bore.
And writhed his trunk, and bathed his tusks in gro.

“Thus while the giants trampled friends and sees Amongst their tribe a mighty chieftain rose; His birth mysterious, but traditions tell What strange events his infancy befell.

“A Goatherd fed his flock on many a steep, Where Eden's rivers swell the southern deep; A melancholy man, who dwelt alone, Yet far abroad his evil fame was known, The first of woman born, that might presume To wake the dead bones mouldering in the tomb, And, from the gulph of uncreated night, Call phantoms of futurity to light. 'Twas said his voice could stay the falling flood, Eclipse the sun, and turn the moon to blood, Roll back the planets on their golden cars, And from the firmament unfix the stars. Spirits of fire and air, of sea and land, Came at his call, and flew at his command: His spells so potent, that his changing breath Open'd or shut the gates of life and death. O'er nature's powers he claim'd supreme contros. And held communion with ail nature's soul: The name and place of every herb he knew, Its healing balsam, or pernicious dew: The meanest reptile, and the noblest birth

Of ocean's caverns, or the living earth,

Obey'd his mandate:—Lord of all the rest,

Man more than all his hidden art confess'd, Cringed to his face, consulted, and revered

His oracles, detested him and fear'd.

“Once by the river, in a waking dream, He stood to watch the ever-running stream, In which, reflected upward to his eyes, He giddily look'd down upon the skies, For thus he feign'd in his ecstatic mood To summon divination from the flood. His steady view a floating object cross'd; His eye pursued it till the sight was lost.— An outcast infant in a fragile bark! The river whirl'd the willow-woven ark )own tow'rds the deep; the tide returning bore The little voyager unharm'd to shore: Him in his cradle-ship securely bound With swathing skins at eve the Goatherd found. Nurst by that foster-sire, austere and rude, Midst rocks and glens, in savage solitude, Among the kids, the rescued foundling grew, Nutrition from whose shaggy dams he drew, Till baby-curls his broader temples crown'd, \nd torrid suns his flexile limbs embrown'd: Then as he sprang from green to florid age, \nd rose to giant stature, stage by stage, He roam'd the vallies with his browsing flock, \nd leapt in joy of youth from rock to rock, Slimb'd the sharp precipice's steepest breast, To seize the eagle brooding on her nest, \nd rent his way through matted woods, to tear 'he skulking panther from his hidden lair. \trodden serpent, horrible and vast, prang on the heedless rover as he pass'd; amb lock'd o'er limb, with many a straitening fold )forbs inextricably involved, he roll'd )n earth in vengeance, broke the twisted toils, trangled the hissing fiend, and wore the spoils. With hardy exercise, and cruel art, To nerve the frame, and petrify the heart, The wizard train’d his pupil, from a span, so thrice the bulk and majesty of man. [grace, His limbs were sinewy strength; commanding And dauntless spirit sparkled in his face; lisarm could pluck the lion from his prey, And hold the horn’d rhinoceros at bay, His feet o'er highest hills pursue the hind, Or tire the ostrich buoyant on the wind.

“Yet 'twas the stripling's chief delight to brave The river's wrath, and wrestle with the wave; When torrent rains had swoln the furious tide, Light on the foamy surge he loved to ride; When calm and clear the stream was wont to flow, Fearless he dived to search the caves below. His childhood's story, often told, had wrought Sublimest hopes in his aspiring thought. I9nce on a cedar, from its mountain throne Pluckt by the tem pest forth he sail'd alone, And reach'd the gulph;-with eye of eager fire, And *hing cheek, he watch'd the shores retire,

Till sky and water wide around were spread;
—Straight to the sun he thought his voyage led,
With shouts of transport hail'd its setting light,
And follow'd all the long and lonely night:
But ere the morning-star expired, he found
His stranded bark once more on earthly ground.
Tears, wrung from secret shame, suffused his eyes,
When in the east he saw the sun arise: [burn’d
Pride quickly check'd them: –young ambition
For bolder enterprize, as he return'd.

“Through snares and deaths pursuing fame and power,

He scorn'd his flock from that adventurous hour,
And, leagued with monsters of congenial birth,
Began to scourge and subjugate the earth.
Meanwhile the sons of Cain, who till'd the soil,
By noble arts had learn'd to lighten toil;
Wisely their scatter'd knowledge he combined;
Yet had an hundred years matured his mind,
Ere with the strength that laid the forest low,
And skill that made the iron furnace glow,
His genius launch'd the keel, and sway'd the helm,
(His throne and sceptre on the watry realm)
While from the tent of his expanded sail,
He eyed the heavens and flew before the gale,
The first of men whose courage knew to guide
The bounding vessel through the refluent tide.
Then swore the giant, in his pride of soul,
To range the universe from pole to pole,
Rule the remotest nations with his nod,
To live a hero, and to die a god.”

ICE-BLINK AND AURORA BOREALIS.

'Tis sunset: to the firmament serene The Atlantic wave reflects a gorgeous scene: Broad in the cloudless west, a belt of gold Girds the blue hemisphere; above unroll'd The keen clear air grows palpable to sight, Embodied in a flush of crimson light, Through which the evening star, with milder gleam, Descends to meet her image in the stream. Far in the east, what spectacle unknown Allures the eye to gaze on it alone? -Amidst black rocks, that lift on either hand Their countless peaks, and mark receding land; Amidst a tortuous labyrinth of seas, That shine around the arctic Cyclades; Amidst a coast of dreariest continent, In many a shapeless promontory rent; —O'er rocks, seas, islands, promontories spread, The Ice-Blink rears its undulated head, On which the sun, beyond th’ horizon shrined, Hath left his richest garniture behind; Piled on a hundred arches, ridge by ridge, O'er fix’d and fluid strides the Alpine bridge, Whose blocks of sapphire seem to mortal eye Hewn from cerulean quarries of the sky; With glacier-battlements, that crowd the spheres, The slow creation of six thousand years, Amidst immensity it towers sublime,

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